


Change of Fate

by taichara



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:36:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10051994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: Meddling?  Laslow?  Well, if it's for a good cause ... and if his subconscious has its own reasons, so be it.It's not like he'll realize it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _prompt:_ "Cup of tea?"

There was one thing -- well, one of many, if he were honest, but why split hairs -- that struck Laslow about having so many Heroes and fighting-types about, and that was the simple fact that before long they were finding themselves needing to sortie out in shifts. 

In a way it was amusing, the thought that Askr had attracted so many champions that the Order needed to operate in cells, more like shifty revolutionaries than valiant warriors; in other ways it reminded him of events back in Nohr, and Nohr -- and his liege -- was not something he wanted to think about.

Luckily, there were ever so many distractions from those black moods. Why, many of them did not even involve lovely ladies! Such as his current activities, to take but one example. Bustling about one end of the citadel's soaring hall, Laslow checked in on seating (properly cushioned chairs and benches both), trays (mostly fruit and light nibbles, nothing heavy after a skirmish to sour in the gut), warmed drinks. Yes, excellent.

_Lord Eliwood's been looking a little peaked and pale, these last few forays, and I do wonder why he seems ... unsurprised by these turn of events._

_Something about it is unsettling._

He'd never pry, of course. That was rude, and uncalled-for, and rather too forward for anything other than turning his insides to water at the thought anyway. But that didn't prevent Laslow from _plotting_ , and these preparations were just the first sortie.

_Not that I have any intention of slighting anyone else who staggers in looking for a bite and a rest. I'd just as soon we don't wear any of us down to ribbons --_

Thus, the scatter of benches and chairs. He had help with the whole thing, no less, because Marth -- the Hero-King himself! -- busied himself at the other end of the trestle-table, and Laslow bit back a nervous chuckle at the thought of that legend playing the servant. But if it pleased Marth to do it, well, who was he to comment?

All at once the hall's double doors swung open and the air filled with the curses and groans of the exhausted and injured. Marth was already on the move, and Wrys seemed to materialize from nowhere, the canny old fellow, to see to lingering wounds; excellent. Laslow scanned quickly across the milling crowd, saw Eliwood's shaggy auburn mop and pale, drawn features, and trotted briskly in his direction, steaming cup cradled in one hand.

"Ah, milord Eliwood! Care to join me for a little ...?"


End file.
